


Of Tigers, Jaguars, and Criminals

by EyeofMazikeen



Series: Anything, Anything [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, M/M, PWP, Road Head, jim is an incorrigible little shit, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 09:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeofMazikeen/pseuds/EyeofMazikeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian and Jim enjoy a nice, relaxing drive in the country.  Basically a smutty car-sex PWP, because I can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Tigers, Jaguars, and Criminals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeah.im.awful](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yeah.im.awful).



> Written for my darling Mormorific muse, yeah.im.awful. If you haven't checked out his stuff go do it now! This'll still be here when you're done, I promise. Beta'd by Vivi Vivacious, my grammar dalek who exterminates my passive voice and misspellings.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. It's probably a good thing though, as I've proved that I can't handle them responsibly at all. : )
> 
> Warnings: Pretty much plotless carsex smut. Mentions of torture. Other than that, nothing too racy. At least not for MorMor.

 

**Of Tigers, Jaguars, and Criminals**

"C'mon Tiger. Faster. Faster!" Jim's lilting voice trembled with barely contained ecstasy. Normally the sound of his mastermind urging him on would arouse Sebastian to no end, but this time he could only roll his eyes and growl.

"God, Jim. This is why we never leave the fucking city." Sebastian Moran's rough voice rumbled through the interior of the Jaguar, hoping that Jim would take the hint and realize that they shouldn't take the damn car any faster. At 193 km/h, they were positively tearing their way down the empty country road. His boss had offered him assurances that there would be absolutely no traffic, but how could he possibly be certain? Sebastian wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, and didn't want to trust their lives to whatever scheme Moriarty had cooked up to keep other vehicles out of their way.

Stealing a glance over at the smaller man, Seb found himself unsurprised to see that Jim had begun sulking. His lower lip extended in a delicious little pout, and if Sebastian hasn't been hell bent on keeping his eyes on the road he would have leaned over and given it a little nip. As quickly as he had executed it, the consulting criminal still caught his glance, and a licentious smile quickly replaced the pout.

Pale, dexterous fingers wandered over to Seb's thigh, stroking the inside lightly through the material of his trousers. "Sebby, let's go faster. Please?" Jim lilted the last word in a whispered whine that made the ex-Colonel's strong fingers convulsively tighten around the black leather of the steering wheel. The steel grey Jaguar X351 wasn't the nicest car he had ever stolen, but it made the top five. It would be a shame to crash it, especially if they were inside. But Jim had that unquenchable fire burning in his black eyes, the one that told Sebastian there would be no way his mastermind was giving up any time soon.

"I'll make it worth your while," he purred, continuing to trace complicated patterns on the inside of his tiger's leg. All Sebastian's blood rushed towards the touch, magnetically drawn to his boss's coaxing hand. Molten silver pooled in his abdomen, the intensity of his desire burning him from the inside out. The smell of expensive leather and Jim's even more expensive cologne surrounded him, sent his head to swimming even as he desperately tried to concentrate

"Mmmnh. Boss... that's, ah..." the sniper steadied his grip on the steering wheel, grasping tightly to the tangible in front of him to keep his mind from wandering away to the ethereal promises of the madman next to him. He heard, rather than saw, Jim undo his seatbelt. Suddenly that lithe torso was pushed gently up against his left arm, recalcitrant lips brushing against the outer edge of Sebastian's ear.

"That's what, Se-bas-tian?" The way Jim drew out every syllable of his name sent sinfully delightful tremors down his spine. Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin at the juncture of Sebastian's ear and neck while his masterminds digits moved up his thigh, settling between his legs on the bulge pressing against the sniper's zip.

"Aah. It's a.. ah.. bad idea, boss." He managed to choke the words out as Jim slowly worked his palm over Sebastian's trapped and rapidly hardening length. Jim responded to his caution by leveling him an unimpressed, flat stare.

"Drive faster, Sebby. That's an  _ **order**_." Swallowing thickly, his tiger complied. He kept his eyes fixed on the rush of pavement before them as the needle slowly moved up the gauge. 196 km/h. 200. 202. Jim's hands worked at his zipper, the friction sending pulsing bolts of pleasure to coil tightly in his abdomen. 204. 207. As soon as he had freed Sebastian's length from the confines of his trousers and pants the slender man pulled back, dark eyes shining as he admired his work. Jim gave both the odometer and Sebastian's cock an approving smile, and ruffled his tiger's ash blonde hair approvingly.

"Keep going," The sniper couldn't see the look on Jim's face, or how wide those black pupils had gotten, but he could hear the unrestrained lust in his partner's lilting tone. 209. 214.

In an instant, his mastermind was almost completely out of his seat; belt undone and lithe body arched over the console seat divider between them. 219. Sebastian had only a moment to be thankful that despite its power the model had an automatic transmission before that all too-clever mouth began working him. Silken lips brushed gently against his head and that wicked tongue darted out to trace small, delicate circles around the slit at the very tip. The sniper groaned, and stole another glance at their speed. 221.

Jim dove straight down onto his aching length, tongue pressing against the thick vein on the underside as he slid the entirety of Sebastian down his narrow throat. Silken heat surrounded him, and the overwhelming waves of sensation threatened to drown out anything and everything else. The criminal's gifted lips continued to work around him, adding just the right amount of resistance as Jim worked up and down Sebastian's shaft at a torturously slow pace. Despite their speed, the sniper half considered taking one hand off the wheel and tangling it in Jim's black hair, forcing those teasing lips to move at the same speed he was being coerced into driving. Before his body could get away from him, Sebastian bit through his bottom lip. Pain always helped to focus him, but blood always turned Jim on. Fortunately that demonically angelic face was otherwise occupied.

Pale cheeks hollowed and Jim's head bobbed up and down, and the sniper swore that the consulting criminal was trying to kill them both. He desperately fought the urge to let his head roll back and his eyes fall closed. Instead, he focused his eyes on the odometer. 237. He backed off the accelerator and the madman pulled off him with a soft wet pop. Pristine white teeth flashed in the darkness as they clicked just millimeters from Sebastian's cock in warning. In response to the wordless threat he continued to push, their speed slowly climbing back into his boss's acceptable range. 240.

The criminal smiled approvingly and lowered his mouth back to Sebastian's erection, taking him in deeper and sucking him even harder than before. 244. The sniper could feel the beginnings of tremors in his thighs as his building climax started strangling out any remaining control he had over his body. Well, at least it was going to be a hell of a way to die, with Jim's lips wrapped around him like that.

As Seb started to feel the the raw, tidal power of orgasm begin overwhelm him, Jim reached between his legs and grasped the very base of his cock in a tight circle of thumb and forefinger. Seb gave a phenomenal groan as the criminal continued his hold but pulled back off the sniper's length. Dark eyes glittered as Jim wiped the back of his mouth on his free hand.

"There, that wasn't so hard now was it?" The lean criminal gave a husky giggle and tightened his hold around Sebastian but a fraction. "Just look at what we've managed to accomplish." Jim's voice was a breathy whisper as he nodded towards the odometer. Seb's eyes widened. 250 km/h. Shit. Still keeping his grasp tight around Sebastian's cock, Jim nuzzled into the side of his neck and purred.

"I only wanted to see if the top speed really was electronically limited, darling." Thick eyelashes fluttered against Seb's jugular, and he involuntarily bucked up into the tight ring of Jim's fingers, desperately seeking more contact from his partner's tormenting hand. "Looks like that's a yes." His mastermind gave a disappointed huff against his sniper's neck.

"Mmmh. Now I have to hack the onboard computer before we go home. How trite." How the smaller man managed to sound bored at a time like this was beyond Sebastian's ability to comprehend. Here they were, doing top speed in a stolen luxury car, barrelling down some godforsaken country road while the other man held his captive cock at attention.

Seb growled deep in the back of his throat, reverberating unsatisfied lust and frustration through through the car's interior. Jim blinked slowly, twice, and looked down at his hand as if he was just now remembering what he held. A diabolical smile crept over his slightly swollen lips, and he tightened his grip again, causing a keening noise to tear its way free from Sebastian's throat.

"Oh tiger. You've been so good. It's not your fault the stupid car won't go any faster." Jim allowed the rest of his slender fingers curl around Sebastian's length, and gave it a delicate pump. All the sniper could do was keep his eyes on the road and moan, hoping to implore his tormentor to more contact through the wordless entreaties he knew the smaller man liked so very much.

"Would you like me to give you your reward now, Sebastian?" Jim's voice was velvet, and Seb wanted nothing more than for that talented mouth to wrap itself around him again and finish him. Or to be buried to the hilt in the heat of Jim's ass. Or for those fingers to tighten around him and stroke him through to completion. Anything. Anything but this high speed, satisfactionless madness. Another nearly frictionless thrust of Jim's hand drove home that a verbal response was required.

"Ngggh. Godbossyesplease." His voice was hoarse with frustration and need, the raw sound of it making Jim smile wolfishly.

"Well, 'Bastian. Good things come to those who wait." The smaller man's fingers withdrew, leaving his sniper exposed and aching for release. The previously tormenting digits flew over the screen of Jim's mobile, which he placed on the dash.

"Follow the map, tiger." Sebastian growled low and deep in his throat, sheer vexation rumbling through his chest. He fought down the overwhelming urge to simply stop the car in the middle of the road and grab Jim by his too-neat dark hair and force the diminutive mastermind to damn well finish what he fucking started. But Jim, simply by virtue of being Jim, must have noticed it the set of his shoulders or whatever other ridiculously subtle tell he had because the dark haired man leveled him with a burning glare. Seb could feel the heat of it on the side of his neck.

"Don't even think about it. You stop this fucking car and I swear I will tie you to the bed, get you this hard and leave you unsatisfied for a full week, Seb." The edges of the smaller man's voice were dark and sharp, and Sebastian knew that it wasn't an idle threat. He had learned that Jim rarely made idle threats the hard way. At least he wouldn't have to spend three days handcuffed to the radiator to learn his lesson this time. He growled again, making sure Jim was fully aware of his displeasure, but one broad hand obediently picked up the phone from the dash. Sebastian eyed the directions, and a frustrated whine escaped.

"Bloody hell Jim, that's at least another fifteen minutes away." His voice came out sounding more needy than forceful, and Seb had to bite his already bloodied bottom lip to keep from complaining further.

"Well some of us have things to do, handsome." And with that Jim's ivory digits began undoing the fastenings on his trousers, ivory white skin flashing against inky black material. Seb could only catch hints and glimpses out of the corner of his eye, but when he heard the telltale skuff of expensive fabric against fabric, followed by the slight sticking sound of skin against leather he knew Jim had at least partially divested himself of his trousers. A few more rummaging noises and a quick glance revealed to Sebastian that Jim had pulled something out of his coat pocket.

Suddenly, the saccharine sweet smell of strawberries hit the air, and Sebastian's mouth involuntarily watered. He didn't even like strawberries, let alone that horrid artificial crap. But Jim and his flavored fucking lubes had his senses too well trained. Jim gasped out an obscene moan, and the wet sound of the mastermind slicking his own fingers sent tendrils of electric bliss pulsing through his nerves, tightening around the base of his spine and tracing invisible fingers up his twitching cock.

"Besides... ah... Sebby." His criminal groaned and shifted position. "If you keep... nnnmmmh... driving at this speed, it won't be aaaaah..." The remainder of Jim's sentence disintegrated into a pleasured groan. His sniper could hear the subtle, slick sounds of Jim's fingers entering and stretching himself. Every muscle in his abdomen and thighs tensed as he thrust himself into the empty air beneath the steering column, desperately seeking out non-existent friction. The ache for release had become an almost unbearable pressure in his groin, and Sebastian was well aware that he was reduced to panting by the simple effort of driving.

The sound of Jim driving his fingers into himself was deafening, each wet thrust accompanied by a wanton moan from the smaller man. Sebastian could feel his own keening noises of desperation forming a lump in his throat as he tried to choke them down. The effort of holding them in made it hard to breathe, but he'd be damned if he'd vocalize for Jim if the smug Irish bastard wasn't doing anything to earn it.

The scene seemed to play out over a small eternity, Sebastian's hands clenching and unclenching on the soft leather of the steering wheel as Moriarty set to fucking himself at a rather brisk pace. By the time he started moaning his sniper's name in time with each buck of his narrow hips, Sebastian was damn near ready to climax without Jim having to lay a hand on him. The smell of leather, strawberries, Jim's cologne, and sex permeated his mind, and his tongue flicked over his bitten bottom lip sending sweet pangs of pleasured pain shooting straight to his throbbing cock. Every sense was filled completely by Jim, save his sight which was fixed to the road. Every nerve hummed with exquisite frustration, and while Seb was distracted his voice fought it's way past the barrier in his throat.

"God DAMNIT Jim," he thundered. Seven days of torment be damned. Sebastian knew how to pick locks. This had to end before he...

The phone chirped its arrival warning and interrupted his train of thought. Noting that they had reached their destination (which looked to be a small empty field, of all fucking places) it took all Sebastian's considerable self control not to slam the car immediately into park. Instead, he decelerated as gently as his deeply-frayed patience would allow. A soft sucking noise from beside him let him know that Jim had removed his fingers, and their Jaguar had been in park for no less than five seconds before Sebastian's hands moved over his own body in a flurry, removing the safety belt and tugging desperately at the zip of his trousers.

As the smaller man beside him raced to strip off the remaining layers of his expensive suiting, Sebastian peeled his trousers and pants the rest of the way off. He left his collared shirt on with a smirk, knowing that Jim loved to take care of that part himself. One broad hand sought out the catch to lean the seat back, and he had just gotten himself settled with his boss sprang out of the seat next to him and wiggled his way onto the larger man's lap.

Jim straddled him without hesitation despite their cramped conditions, steering column pushed against the smaller man's back. He didn't seem to mind though, as he adjusted himself and grasped Sebastian's thick length by the base, positioning it at his slicked entrance. Tantalizingly, he rubbed the tip of the sniper's cock against his slicked opening a few times before steadying himself and pushing down onto Sebastian millimeters at a time.

Sebastian's hips jutted up enthusiastically to meet him, and with a strangled sigh Jim sank down fully onto his sniper's long-neglected cock. The heat and pressure of Jim crushed a startled moan from his sniper's lips, and it took the larger man a second to gain his bearings as tremors of satisfaction rippled through each muscle. The lean criminal went to bite into his tiger's shoulder, only to look surprised that Sebastian's shirt remained. Dark eyes narrowed, and he quirked an elegant eyebrow at his partner as he stopped all motion. One long finger played with the top button, circling it at a slow, sensual pace.

"And what's this for, hmm Seb?" Jim rocked his hips slightly, providing more of that delightful, necessary friction. Sebastian loosed an animalistic growl in response, but his mastermind simply rocked against him again and admonished "Words, tiger. Use them."

"Wanted you t-to... ah ... be able to open your... mmmph... p-present," he managed to stutter out between thrusts of Jim's hips. In response, the dark haired man grasped either side of the white fabric and ripped in opposite directions. Buttons clattered across the interior of the car, and not for the first time Sebastian swore the lithe criminal had loosened the buttons on all his shirts simply so he could tear them off.

Instead of ripping the shirt the rest of the way off, Jim writhed against his sniper as he pushed the shirt down off Sebastian's sturdy shoulders to his elbows. Quick hands worked behind the sniper, twisting the back of the shirt into a rope and knotting it at the small of his back. Though not terribly secure, the shirt did vaguely pin his arms to his sides. And while not inescapable by any stretch of the imagination, it did get Jim's point across.

"Just for that Tiger, no touching," the black eyed man purred, before burying his teeth in Sebastian's newly exposed skin. The juncture of his neck and shoulder bore the permanent imprint of his mastermind's bite, and he could feel the familiar warm trickle of a rivulet of blood travel down his chest as Jim's sharp teeth reopened the ever-present wound. Once the skin was broken, the dark haired man placed a flurry of kisses across the bloody mark before bringing his lips up to Sebastian's.

The sniper moaned into his boss's crushing kiss, coppery tang of his own blood and the indefinable essence of Jim mingling in his mouth, shooting through his system like a dangerous narcotic. The sensation caused him to buck his hips helplessly into Jim's crushing heat, moaning an entreaty against the smaller man's lips. Chuckling into his partner's mouth, Jim began to move again, sliding himself up and almost off Sebastian's length completely.

His cock and throat tightened in tandem, as if Jim was somehow strangling both. Instead, his mastermind's hands clutched tightly at his shoulders. The smaller man used the broad, scarred, steady surface to leverage himself, once again pushing himself up and down along Sebastian's length. The sniper could feel the delicate flutter of muscle around his cock as the apex of each thrust pushed him into his mastermind's prostate. Each downward stroke ended with a throaty groan of "Oh, Colonel".

His former title on his current boss's lips set the final spiral towards climax into motion. Desperate for Jim to come first he pressed a calloused hand between them, seeking out the heat of Jim's length where it pressed up against his stomach. He worked the hardened flesh rapidly in time with Jim's movements, stopping every few strokes to brush the rough pad of his thumb over his lover's shamelessly weeping slitted tip.

"Colonel... ah... S-seb! Seb... Colonel MORAN..." Jim continued to repeat his sniper's name and title over and over again, like a litany of tiny prayers. Or curses. Sometimes with Jim it was impossible to tell. Every time he buried Sebastian's cock to the hilt inside him, he arched his back slightly and his sniper had to fight to obediently keep his hands at his side. All he wanted to do was wrap his strong fingers around Jim's narrow hips, pressing until bruises rose on tender white skin, firmly holding that tormenting ass in place as he fucked his way to completion with Jim screaming his name.

Strong but slender thighs supported Jim's weight as he pulled himself up off Sebastian until only the sniper's head remained encased in him. Tightening his abdominal muscles, he clenched around the sensitive crown of Sebastian's cock, eliciting a startled, wanton cry from the man beneath him. He repeated the action again, and his sniper let his blonde head roll back onto the seat rest. Steel blue eyes clenched tight in a mixture of pleasure, frustration, and concentration. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the tension in his partner's shoulders told Jim that he'd be unsurprised if Sebastian's short nails had torn furrows into the expensive leather seat. After a torturous moment of stillness Jim began to fuck himself on Sebastian again, this time at a desperate, frantic pace.

As the smaller man rapidly approached completion, he leaned his dark head down to Sebastian's ear and growled "I swear to every god you don't believe in that one day, one perfect day, I will fucking kill you, Sebastian Moran." It was as close as Jim ever got to whispering endearments. And it was without a doubt true. Not that Seb didn't enjoy being alive (especially right now, thank you) but it was inevitable. Jim was destruction personified, and he would happily feed his life to the torrent of carnage that was his dark eyed madman when his time came. So much better than dying for queen or country. Sebastian's last gasp would go to feed the insatiable beast he lived, and would invariably die, to serve.

"I've been waiting my whole life for your knife in my heart, Jim," he growled. At least at this moment, it felt like the truth.

He brought his head back up to gaze at his lithe, slim torsoed partner. The criminal's normally tamed hair was in wild disarray, creating a kind of inverted halo effect around his face that sucked away what little light was available. Jim looked hauntingly beautiful, fine boned face upturned and thin throat exposed as he rode Sebastian with the same immense focus he gave to all his 'great works'.

It was sheer bliss to see his mastermind like this; a thin sheen of sweat covering his pale chest, dark eyes slitted in pleasured focus, wisps of black hair sticking to his forehead. Yet somehow, the smaller man still exuded an air of control, of self possession that Sebastian found exceedingly captivating. Jim fucking Moriarty. Even naked, wanton, disheveled, and fucking himself senseless he carried himself like he deserved to be crowned the rightful king of everything.

Suddenly those black eyes flew open, and bored down into Sebastian's. The intensity of their gaze made Sebastian's cock twitch inside his mastermind, which made Jim writhe down against him in response. His sniper's calloused hand continued to work his length as Jim continued to thrust.

Sebastian's lack of tenseness, in fact his rather poetic admission of acceptance, stoked the fire in Jim beyond containment. He could feel the beginning convulsions of orgasm sweep through his system, and he had just a moment to shout Sebastian's name in warning before the wave crashed over him; hot, trembling, and blinding white. The feel of Jim's cock emptying into his hand and across his stomach was the trigger Sebastian had been waiting for. As Jim tightened around him, his sniper gave a few last stuttering thrusts and followed him into the dazzling, nerve tingling release of completion.

Together in the darkness, they lay spent against each other, the only noises the soft gasps of their mutual breathing as they came down from the impossible high together. Once Jim had regained enough faculties to wind his arms around Sebastian and undo the tangle of his shirt. Once freed, Sebastian's strong arms wound around Jim's waist, one hand resting in the small of his back. In response, his criminal slid lithe hands against his sniper's scarred chest, delighting in the slight tremor of aftershocks that rippled through his muscles.

Moments passed in silence before Jim finally rose up off his sniper's lap, unsheathing his partner and moving back to the passenger seat. Sebastian sighed at the loss of contact, but consoled himself by digging his pack of cigarettes out of the console between them. As he fumbled in the darkness for a light, Jim rooted around on his side of the car, coming up with a packet of tissues. After a few quick swipes to clean himself up, he tossed the remainders of the packet at Sebastian. When he noticed his sniper's unlit cigarette, he went back to rummaging about on the floor of the car.

His boss rooted around on the floor and produced a lighter from his crumpled jacket pocket. With a flick, he lit Sebastian's cigarette. His sniper inhaled gratefully, taking in a lungful of smoke, sex, leather and Jim. Black eyes fixed on him, gaze almost affectionate as Jim drank in the sight of his tiger enjoying himself. A few comfortable, quiet minutes passed before the slight brunette finally spoke.

"So. I was right. Say it." Sebastian rolled his head against the leather rest, fixing his partner with an amused grin.

"Fuck you, you smug prat." Jim quirked an eyebrow as his sniper took a final, deep drag off his cigarette before cracking the window and flicking the butt away. He used the remainder of the tissues to clean himself the best he could before pulling his pants and trousers back on. His torn shirt hung open off his shoulders, but there was no helping that. Fucking Jim and his goddamn shirt-ripping fetish.

"But you  **are**  right." Seb half sighed, half growled his agreement. "Fucking you in the PM's car is better than "ordinary car sex". Fucked if I know how you got your hands on it, though." There was a bit of a resentful grumble in the sniper's voice. When Jim had first posited the idea to him he didn't actually think that the madman would follow through just to prove a point. Jim simply fixed him with one of his trademark bemused, smugly superior smiles.

"I mean, this is a bit flamboyantly criminal. Even for you, boss." Sebastian eyed his mastermind carefully as the smaller man went through a reverse strip tease. Not as erotic as taking all that expensive clothing off, but it was something to see Jim go from naked and in disarray to crisply dressed. Even if the illusion was slightly ruined by a stray crease here and there.

"Oooh. Sebby. Don't be a sore loser. You owe me a forfeit; making you a sore loser is my job." Jim chuckled. "Now take us here," After some fiddling with the device Jim thrust his mobile at Sebastian, who read the map it displayed carefully. "Let's go. I really want to see how bulletproof this behemoth is. Drive. And if I catch you doing under a hundred and eighty I'll take each mile out of your hide, tiger."

"I thought you wanted to hack the onboard to see if we could get this heap to do over 250?" Jim waved his hands in a dramatic gesture of dismissal.

"Boring. I'd rather shoot it now." His sniper growled a wordless assent, and Jim rummaged through the taller man's jacket and procured another pair of cigarettes. Once lit, he passed one to his sniper.

"Let's go, Seb." Sebastian ran a quick check to make sure everything was in order before turning the key and letting the Jag spring back to life. Once the car was started a faint thumping began from the very back. Black eyes widened momentarily in surprise, before a vicious grin split Jim's face. His mastermind giggled, and even Seb had to chuckle.

"Sounds like our rat is awake. That's lovely! I was so hoping we wouldn't have to cut him up too badly to get him to wake up," Jim chirped. Sex did wonders to improve his normally unstable mood. If their captive was lucky, the afterglow would last until their next destination. If not, well, that would be fun too.

"I wonder if he was privy to the show," his sniper mused. Funny thing it would be, to wake up concussed in the trunk of a car to the sounds of your captors fucking.

"Ooooh. I do so love to have an audience," Jim purred.

"Well either way, it will still be more fun if he's screaming when we shoot up the car," his sniper stated. "Though we did date night backwards. If I remember correctly, it's supposed to be activities THEN sex."

"Ugh. So linear and predictable. Why not drive, fuck, maim, indulge in a little foreplay, shoot the car, kill, and fuck again?" Sebastian tilted his head thoughtfully, considering the course of actions Jim had just detailed. An image of Jim, covered in blood and writhing beneath him in the back of the Jaguar flashed through his mind and his recently spent cock gave a twitch in response.

"Sold. We should make this date night thing a weekly occurrence. At least until the Government Car and Despatch Agency runs out of vehicles," Seb chuckled.

"Perhaps, tiger. Perhaps. Or we could do firebombings and ice cream," the smaller man lilted in response. Seb answered with another warm chuckle, dark countryside flying past them as the finished their cigarettes as they enjoyed the sound of whimpering and thumping in the trunk.

Some folks delighted in romantic candlelit dinners. Others liked chocolates and flowers, or other paltry tokens of affection. But Jim...well... his tastes were more in line with the ex-Colonel's. Seb was delighted that he found the one other person in London that preferred to be romanced with firearms, kidnapping, torture, and stolen cars. He smiled at the smaller man beside him, black eyes closed in a rare moment of calm happiness as he tapped his fingers in time to the drumming from the Jag's trunk. Yes, date night definitely needed to become a regular thing.

* * *

Fin!

Depending on a variety of different circumstances, I may actually make 'date night' an ongoing series. If you have anything that you'd like to see Sebastian and Jim get up to please feel free to drop me a line.  No job to big, no job to small! They'll steal, destroy, or fuck just about anything. Y'know, because the couple that plays together stays together.

~Mazi.


End file.
